'He was more than what the cameras saw': touching moments from Presley Chweneyagae's memorial
Oros Mampofu's wife Bianca Carmichael, who was Presley's sister-in-law, delivered a moving tribute.
'I stand before you today with a heart full of sorrow, gratitude and respect. I speak on behalf of Presley's beloved wife and her entire Kirk family. Presley was not just a husband, a son-in-law or a brother-in-law — he was a force, a light. A presence so strong that you always knew when he entered the room. Not because he demanded attention but because he carried such quiet power, charm and grace.
'To the world, he was Presley Chweneyagae the actor, the artist, the man whose talent moved many nations from his unforgettable role in Tsotsi , to his role as the opulent Cobrizi. He gave voice to stories that needed to be told.
'But to us, he was more than what the cameras captured. He was a protector, a husband who loved deeply, a father who was gentle and proud, a brother-in-law who made us proud.
'It is hard to imagine a world without his laughter, his sharp wit or his comforting presence. But as we grieve, we also celebrate the legacy he leaves behind, not only in film and television but in the lives he touched, the hearts he warmed and the inspiration he sparked in the next generation of artists.'
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The Herald
2 days ago
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The long shadow of apartheid To understand this crisis, we must first confront our history. Under apartheid's Bantu Education system, black pupils, particularly in rural areas, were deliberately denied quality education. Schools were under-resourced, teachers were underqualified and mother tongue education was politicised and poorly implemented. Though democracy promised change, rural schools remain neglected, lacking libraries, literacy materials and trained language teachers. The legacy of systemic neglect lives on in the crumbling infrastructure and overcrowded classrooms. Even more damaging is the cycle it has created: teachers who were failed by the system now struggle to support the pupils they teach. The mother tongue dilemma IsiXhosa, like all indigenous languages, deserves to be a strong foundation for learning. While the curriculum supports home-language instruction in the foundation phase, implementation is inconsistent and under-resourced. Many pupils speak regional dialects of isiXhosa, and these varieties differ from the standardised form used in textbooks. At home, a child is exposed to isiXhosa that is structurally and phonetically different from what they hear in class. Instead of recognising this as natural linguistic diversity, the education system treats it as a problem. Pupils end up being told, implicitly or explicitly, that the language they speak at home is 'wrong'. Worse still, by grade 4, pupils must abruptly switch to English as the language of learning and teaching. This pedagogically unsound shift occurs before they've developed academic proficiency in either language. Instead of building understanding, they resort to memorising and mimicking. The English illusion There is a dangerous assumption in many rural schools that introducing English earlier, or more aggressively, will improve literacy outcomes. Yet, more English doesn't help if neither pupils nor teachers understand it. English First Additional Language (FAL) is often taught by educators who are not confident in the language themselves. Lessons rely on rote repetition, not meaning making. There is little focus on vocabulary development, reading fluency or comprehension strategies. English then becomes an empty ritual, not a tool for expression or exploration. Pupils become passive receivers of language, not active users. They learn to fear reading instead of enjoying it. The role of teachers This is not to blame teachers, many of whom work in incredibly difficult conditions, but rather to highlight a critical system failure. Initial teacher education programmes do not adequately prepare teachers for multilingual, rural classrooms. Ongoing professional development is rare or irrelevant. Many foundation phase teachers are generalists without specialised training in teaching reading, particularly in isiXhosa or English FAL. Furthermore, large class sizes, often exceeding 40 pupils, and the absence of classroom libraries or storybooks make it almost impossible to implement effective reading instruction. How do you teach 40 children to decode, infer, predict and reflect when you have one textbook and no space to move? What can be done? This crisis is not unsolvable. It only requires political will, targeted investment and a shift in mindset. Extend and improve mother-tongue instruction Pupils should be taught in isiXhosa as a LoLT ( language of learning and teaching) for longer, ideally until grade 6, while gradually building English proficiency. This dual-focus model works in other multilingual countries and aligns with research on language acquisition. However, it must be supported by well-developed isiXhosa materials that reflect the dialects and realities of rural pupils. Professionalise reading instruction Every foundation phase teacher should be a reading specialist. This requires dedicated training on how to teach reading in both isiXhosa and English FAL. In-service teacher support — coaching, mentoring, classroom demonstrations — should be ongoing, not a one-off workshop. Create reading corners in all classrooms Reading cannot flourish in a bookless environment. The government, NGOs and publishers must work together to produce low-cost, high-interest books in isiXhosa and English. These books must be culturally relevant and linguistically accessible. A classroom without storybooks is like a swimming pool without water. Embrace linguistic diversity Dialectal differences in isiXhosa should be embraced, not erased. Teachers need training on linguistic diversity, and pupils must be encouraged to see their home language as a strength. Language is not the barrier; it is the key. Empower parents and communities Parents may not be able to help with English homework, but they can tell stories, sing songs and engage in isiXhosa conversations that build vocabulary and imagination. Community radio, WhatsApp groups and community libraries can all play a role in supporting home literacy. Reading is liberation A child who cannot read is locked out of learning. For rural isiXhosa-speaking pupils in the Eastern Cape, the lock is not just illiteracy, it is inequality, history and neglect. However, the key is within reach. Reading is not a luxury, it is liberation. Until every child can read for meaning both in isiXhosa and English, and establish their own voice, our mission is not complete. Dr Nontsikelelo Ndabeni and Dr Siziwe Dlepu are lecturers in the Department of Humanities and Creative Arts Education at Walter Sisulu University This special report into the state of literacy, a collaborative effort by The Herald, Sowetan, and Daily Dispatch, was made possible by the Henry Nxumalo Foundation
